The Crooked Path
by Anonymous Echo
Summary: He was someone she once knew, someone she once met, someone she once touched. Now he was someone she hated, undecided if she had even forgiven him. All that she was sure of what that she was going to be haunted by something very much real.
1. Prequel

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters, nor its plot or anything of the sort. I do, however, own Gwen Paulius, Jackal, Shyne Balthalzar, and Simone Brackett, the plot of this fanfiction, and any other characters/scenarios that may be encountered that are **_**not **_**within the books. And there-fore, I advise you do not bitch nor steal. Enjoy the read! :D**

_ The house was on fire again. This particular building that seemed to be so insignificant to her, the same building that kept showing up so vividly in her dreams. There was nothing special about it in the least, white with a black roof, black shutters. Two story building, horizontally it was longer, giving it an odd shape. There was a small garage, a single car of deep red parked outside. Every night she had this dream she mused how the only real color she ever could focus on was that one vehicle, only because it reminded her of blood. It accompanied the screams so brilliantly, to the point it was ironic, really. Faintly the shadows of people passed by the windows, flames both inside and outside of the house eating away at the structure and its occupants. There was nothing special about this house. It was boring even by just glancing at it. Not even worth a second glance, really. And honestly, if anyone knew its occupants they would of agreed to that. There wasn't even a garden to be burned away, no flowers to wither against the heat of the flames. The lawn was green before, sure, taken care with little effort. These people couldn't be bothered with it, not in the least. Why? The property wasn't special to them, the little girl in the dream knew that._

_**She **__knew that. So what did she do? She watched the property burn. And why did she watch the property burn? Because it wasn't special. Even if she knew how to stop the flames she wouldn't. So instead she stood on the sidewalk outside of the home, a backpack at her feet, the top handle tightly in her grasp. The girl's head was dipped downwards, eyes of gold reflecting the flames even through the thick dark chocolate bangs. Hair that reached her collarbone, straight as can be on its own. She watched as the building burned, she watched and listened as the people within it burned. It was all because this place wasn't special. Why wasn't this place special? Shouldn't it be, though. Considering she was their only child, the only child that lived within that house. Wasn't she supposed to be their pride and joy like the television spoke. No. She was the child they neglected, she wasn't special. She was never going to be special, not for them or anyone else. So she stood, watching the house that was never special to her parents, watching as they became her first experiment at the young age of nine. It looked like it was a success, and slowly the dream girl smiled. It was slow, bordering sinful. She had preformed alchemy. That same smile mocked, taunted the dying bloodline of hers, she wasn't as forgettable as they made her. She wasn't as invisible. It was all thanks to the book she held within her hands._

**Prequel.**

She was sixteen when she opened the old box, dust had seeped in some of the cracks and holes of the cardboard. But the teenager seemed to care little, just focused upon the belongings of her past, the items that still held some sort of connection. They were items she had not seen in a long while, mainly because the doctor claimed it would stir up unwanted memories she was not ready for. But that was then, and this was now. So far she had successfully found a still tied bow, a plain black tie from the funeral, some pennies and a quarter, childhood books, worn out teddy, and a book that stood out among others. Pulling out the last of the items from the bottom of the box she examined its features carefully, fingertips brushing across the cover. It was tattered, worn beyond belief, she couldn't make out the cover properly. The only thing that stood out clearly enough was the title, one that seemed to sarcastically jump out at her.

**Alchemy. The Book.**

She snorted quietly at the ridiculous name. Really, was that alluring any consumers? Sitting back against some old boxes in the attic she flipped open the cover idly, an eyebrow raising at the first page.

**Only existing copy.**

The words nearly seemed to speak to her in the plainest of voices, printed perfectly in the line of sight. That was interesting, eyebrow raising worthy. She had the only copy, why hadn't she remembered that? Speaking of which... How the hell did she even get her hands upon the book? Wrinkling her nose slightly she flipped to the index, examining the chapters briefly before grabbing a handful of pages and slowly flipping through them. Easily she noticed not a page was without written text, notes scribbled all over. She stopped flipping through abruptly, her eyes catching two words. Revival and immortality. It wasn't the text, it was the notes. When she looked over the page she noticed what it was of, the Philospher's Stone. The legendary object that was said to possess unimaginable power. Reviving, healing, making a being immortal... Flickering her gaze over the way too neat handwriting she read how this person obviously had some belief of it to be real. Their notes were short but detailed, it was an organized mess, to say the least. Who ever had done this put their heart into the work, she had to say she was impressed.

From a young age she had never been one to believe in fairy tales, skeptical considering her childhood. A childhood she barely remembered now. Fairies, unicorns, flying ponies, witches, and what ever else. She would like to say she could believe, but how could she when everything in her life ever pointed to one thing. Reality was not bent on magic nor luck, just hard work and suffering. A term her father used often. But even at the young age, when being told such things, she had to cling to something. Some type of hope. And here it was in her hands, the exact book that led her to it. Alchemy. It was as if humans were trying to preform magic. It was science, it was math, all being used to form something spiritual, something magical. And that was what she as a child could cling to, because it wasn't about fairies or pretty ponies, it was logic.

Here she was now though, sixteen, and not thinking logically in the least. The only real thing she had ever known was in her hands, the book she used to set her old home on fire. The book that made her regret nothing. Her lips formed a faint smile. She was glad at that at least.

What she wasn't pleased about was how this book though seemed to still be claimed as this person's. She wanted to leave her print, to let it be known her value to this. From here, when it was starting once more, to when it would end. Flipping to the front of the book she stopped at where the book informed her of it being the only copy. Grabbing her childhood bag -that she still used- she grabbed a pen, clicking it open she pulled her knees up closer to her chest and hunched over.

_"May 21st, I have opened the box and found you once more, book. I'm sixteen, sane as can be once more, considering that afternoon. I'm done with stalling or being stalled, it's been seven years. You taught me a lot when I was nine, book, I'm determined you can still teach me more. So hello, book, my name is Gwen Paulius, it's good to see you again."_

She smiled as she lifted her pen, examining the small print which wasn't perfectly neat but still capable of being read. With some affection she traced her fingers down the corner of the cover. That was when the attic filled with an uneasy vibe, a sensation she had never felt before. Trouble, she felt trouble. Her instincts were telling her to put away her things and return to the foster home below but she didn't move, no. She stayed, her eyes turning downwards to find her words fading away. Her golden gaze widened as the ink was completely gone, and from it, in nearly the same spot, rose a new black font. One that was not her own, one that mimicked the neatly written style of the scribbled notes.

_**Hello Gwen, my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.**_

It was then her smile faded just as quickly as the ink upon the paper did. What she had in her hands was a book, a very special book. A book that would live up to its name as the only one of its kind.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters, nor its plot or anything of the sort. I do, however, own Gwen Paulius, Jackal, Shyne Balthalzar, and Simone Brackett, the plot of this fanfiction, and any other characters/scenarios that may be encountered that are **_**not **_**within the books or movies. And there-fore, I advise you do not bitch nor steal.**

**Notice: If you are confused from the prequel have no fear! You'll catch on soon enough. Also, yes, Gwen is using transmutation circles. I figured, rather than carrying a chemistry set around this would be easier. HP has plenty of unique symbols, spells, etc. transmutation circles aren't all that far off in my view. They are just another symbol being powered, by what? Well, we'll find out. :D**

**Chapter One. It's Raining Idiots**

_**Memory Lane**_ is what the sign read upon the large black gate. It was peeling, parts of the fence that ran off from the gate were awkwardly bent, some pieces missing. From the outside it looked abandoned, lost from decades of neglect. However, upon the other side of the gate it was only partly neglected. Statues were broken, some even demolished. Whether it be due to time and weather or vandalism it did not matter, one by one they were being repaired. The grass held no exact color, a dead green poked out of the usually mucky ground. At times it looked gray, but that was merely to be ruled out as a figment of imagination. Of course, it would seem to be true considering the sun had yet to ever shine here. Six years, she had been here for six years and not one day had the clouds let up to let a single ray of sunshine poke through. Not once. It was always dim in the day and nearly pitch black during the night, the only sign of life -or after life for that matter- were the ghosts that roamed. The property was large, it wasn't as if they'd get that bored. Unless they were centuries old, which in some cases there were a few. The deranged knight was proof of that.

Memory Lane... It was quiet, mostly. No, sometimes. Yes, sometimes. The ghosts were a rather lively and loud bunch, things were rarely dull. They made their own sunshine out of the darkness upon the land. They had to, for the world had forgotten about them long ago. Just another reason as to why young Gwen ended up here of all places. Six years she had been here, doing nothing but fixing the statues with her bare hands and a few tools. Why not alchemy, the ghosts and one visitor questioned her. Because then she'd have nothing to do with her spare time. No one ever came here, aside from the halfblood, she had no responsibilities as a grounds keeper aside from taking care of the place. Like hell she'd fix it all so quickly. Six years and she only had a quarter of the property fixed. Gwen had to admit though, she had gotten better with these repairs over the years. As tedious of a task as it was she still didn't mind doing it. What else could she do aside from experimenting with alchemy?

So here she was, twenty-four, the same golden eyes, same hair only longer, down past her shoulders, and she was waist deep in mud with a statue between her legs. Her dark jeans, which were a size too big for her, clung to her legs. The cool mud and muck rain water seeping through the denim. Her plaid, chocolate button up shirt was rolled up, not that it mattered much. It was mostly to keep the chill off her. The white shirt she wore beneath, thick as it may be, still required something in this chilly weather. An old tie was loosely dangling from her neck, little cartoon Pacmans dancing across it. Despite this being a dirty job it was still a job, and Gwen dressed decently for it. Clothes could be cleaned. So she sat hunched over with her tool belt beside her she continued mending the object, her golden hues flickering across the cracks while she carefully pieced it together. Keeping a watchful eye for any signs of it falling apart more, her grip upon the item had to be just right. The wrong amount of pressure and her work would be all for nothing.

"Ooga booga!" A voice hollered directly behind her. Gwen jumped, her fingers tightening upon the figure, and then she heard it. What she had been avoiding, the sound of a piece breaking off of the statue. Her eyebrow twitched, gaze turning down to assess the situation, the arm. The arm she had just fixed was now upon the ground. "Oops. Drop something?" An all too familiar voice sang from behind, the taller figure leaned over, his face far too close to her own for her liking.

"Don't touch it, ass!" Gwen hissed, her hand swatting at the one and only living visitor she ever got. He obeyed, hand returning to his side as he stood up and moved to her side.

"Playing in the mud again?" Shyne Balthalzar drawled, his hand resting on a tombstone as he leaned against it. Half-blood, vampire and human hybrid. Royal reject. His navy locks flopped to one side as his head tilted, mismatched gaze of gold (left) and gray (right) staring down upon her. He stood about five-ten, and stood out with his fair tan. Still, that lean and lanky build was far too unusual to be fully human, making him appear less elegant and more awkward. So it wasn't always true about their kind being lovely things, some were just down right weird. He was living proof, halfbreed or not.

"What else would you recommend me to do, Shyne?" She questioned with a quirked eyebrow, marveling at the fact he was barely even muddy. Aside from some specks upon his light blue dress shirt, darker blue stitches running vertically down it. Splatters were upon his black dress pants, and the dark shoes could barely even be seen. "Should I get up and dance, or perhaps spend my time in town frolicking like a moron?"

"I'd like to see them both." He grinned, fangs gleaming amused. With a roll of her eyes she returned to working on the statue and repairing the lost limb. Upon which his focus turned elsewhere, faint shouting easily being heard by them both. "Looks like Wacko Jackal is up." Shyne chuckled in a giddy manner, walking away a few steps. From the corner of her eyes she could see his form waving frantically, nearly jumping up and down, gaining the attention of the ghost.

"Oh. Lovely. The Mistress's pet is here." Jackal sighed, his form gliding across the ground.

"Nice to see you too." The duo chimed back to the undead man who lifted his wide brimmed hat and bowed. Some ghosts were difficult to tell apart, especially when so many roamed the grounds here. But he always managed to stand out just fine. The Victorian suit he wore was black, much like his hat, an unbuttoned white dress shirt beneath. His slacks were as dark as the rest of his clothing, shoes included. From the back two butler-like coat tails flowed. He seemed harmless, even like a gentlemen, but if one who wasn't naive listened to him speak it was quite the opposite.

"Mm. I'm sure." His voice bordered on rasping, lips pulled down into a loose frown as he hovered. Most ghosts were drained of color, appearing gray, like he that was no different. But there was one speck of color that seemed to remain, and it made her question if he truly was a ghost or some malevolent spirit. Just as his gaze landed upon her, the sinful red hues nearly shining. "Fairing well, keeper?" Gwen merely stared back, not replying for she knew the usual routine of sarcasm. "No riots? Babies on fire? It isn't raining cats and dogs here so that means you must be bored."

"No one is making you stay, Jackal. You can go to the white light when ever you want." She replied offhandedly.

"Or red, maybe black for you." Shyne chimed with an innocent smile. The ghost was not amused, but forced a smirk upon his lips nonetheless. "That a boy! Wasn't too hard, right?" The bemused entity turned sharply and glided away without a one more word.

Gwen sighed quietly, her hands holding the arm she was reattaching in place. "We really should ease up on the remarks." She murmured, head shaking gently. "We are both old enough to see he takes little amusement in them."

The hybrid snorted loudly, "That just means he needs to re-purpose that stick up his ass." He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her quizzical look. "You know, he could use it to poke his sense of humor back to life." He paused, "If he ever had one..."

"Impossible." She chuckled while pushing herself onto her feet, statue in her grasp. Setting it down on top of the flat tombstone she stepped back to examine the setting limb. Her eyes turned to an elderly ghost who floated a few yards away in a flowered night dress. No shoes, short curly hair, one earning, and loving, but lost eyes. "Mrs. Jenny, your statue is here drying. I'll come back when it is done, is that alright with you?" The elderly woman turned her head briefly, a blank expression upon her wrinkled face. It smoothed out slightly at the incredibly faint smile, a single short nod of her head meaning she understood. Satisfied Gwen picked up her tool kit and began walking off, heading to the small house at the opposing end of the graveyard gate, lucky for her she was still nearby it. Behind her she could hear the slush footsteps of her acquaintance, his low humming reaching her ears. Despite his usual behavior, which annoyed her immensely, he did well to balance her out. It was probably why she had yet to set him ablaze.

"I see you haven't tended to the house either." His voice rang out, she did not bother responding. It was true. The dark gray structure was short in height and in width. Its roof was black, and while it blocked out the rain on the inside upon the outside view it looked a mess. The chimney was just barely usable, chunks of dark bricks missing higher up. The walkway leading up to the small home was cracked, chunks of it missing. Not to mention the windows were damaged, fixed up by temporary boards. The place looked as abandoned as the graveyard, which only spoke so much about the owner. Each muddy step she took she watched the cement walkway, it shifted beneath her weight from its fragile state. Really, she would need to tend to this. At least on the outside, make the graveyard more appealing for the forgotten ghosts. Poor little place, no one within Little Hangleton seemed to give a damn anymore.

Gwen's fingers curled around the handle of the door and pulled it open, purposely shutting it in her companion's face. A few steps in the door opened behind her, a distinct 'That was rude' coming from behind. She suppressed the smirk that dared to form upon her lips. It was easy to do when seeing the inside of her home, the gray walls, the wooden floors that were stained despite being cleaned. There wasn't much furniture, nor lighting, the place had no decorations of any kind. There were zero things that made her personally attached to this place, and that reason was simple: She had no items to make it so. The only things she had always were with her, the small backpack with those few items. And the few new ones she may find of interest in those rare times she went out.

With a sharp left she entered a small room, empty mostly minus a few chairs. She continued through, making a right which really just wrapped her around to the other side of the house. A couch, one she crashed upon lazily, an arm laying across the back of it. This was the mud couch, the one she would come to after working away most of the day. When she was too lazy to shower and change and wanted a rest first. Propping up a knee she rested her elbow against it, a hand being placed over her eyes as she relaxed some.

"All work and no play makes Gwen a dull girl." Shyne chuckled as he stopped ahead of her, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Not bored-"

"Course' you are."

Gwen separated her fingers to stare through them at her male visitor, "-just tired." Her tone pressed, due to his interruption.

"What's been stressing you, doll face?" He cooed playfully, his weight hitting the couch hard beside her. "No, wait, let me guess. Just been working over time on your precious statues, right?"

"Jackal."

"Mm. Intolerable bastard, no?" Shyne leaned his head back upon her arm with a grin.

"Putting it lightly..." She spoke bemused, her hand dropping from her face with a sigh. "He smashed three statues, tore the wings off an angel, castrated a dog-"

"Dog statue?"

"-that's not the half of it." She groaned, her head leaning back to mimic his own. "He won't leave."

"We knew this already."

"He _won't _leave. Not because he _can't _leave. It's because he doesn't _want_ to. I hate him. Insufferable!"

"The feeling is mutual." That said ghost spoke while gliding through the wall between the two living beings and continued across the room, exiting through the opposite wall.

"Creepy bastard." Shyne murmured.

"Dually noted." Jackal called, his presence leaving her home for now. At least she hoped.

Raising her free hand she motioned into the direction of where the ghost was, "And he's always doing that. Not just when I'm sitting here either. Sleeping, showering, changing. Bloody bastard."

"Aw. He likes you."

"Hardly."

Shyne was about to retort with his usual _charm _when the sound of a scream tore through. Rather than becoming spooked the grounds keeper merely groaned loudly, a few swears escaping her lips as she pulled herself to a stand, him following with a rare frown upon his face. Their eyes met and he knew as well as she that was no undead scream. They were familiar with the differences, the pitches of the dead were far more shrill than that of living vocal cords. Growling softly Gwen stormed through the house heading straight for the door, and while Shyne followed closely he could only mutter one thing, "Jackal..."

"Innocent till proven guilty." The ghost chimed as he exited the wall behind the two. Gwen briefly shot a look over her shoulder as if to scold him, but figuring the scream was more important she abandoned it and turned forward. "In this case, rest assure, I haven't done anything." Jackal grinned, his hands raised to his own defense as he glided casually behind their quick paced walk.

"It's hard to believe you. Especially when learning you castrated a dog."

"Statue."

"I have my doubts." Shyne chuckled dryly.

A loud growl was what silenced them, Gwen had done so before she wrenched open the door and took off in a run just as a second scream broke out. The ghosts were frozen, their heads turned into the direction the tree-o was running towards. Why were they startled? Then again, why did she even have to ask that, it wasn't as if they had a new visitor since she's been there.

Her heart pounded faster, someone new was here.

Someone new.

Six years, six years and someone new was here.

A third scream tore through the air and now Gwen was no longer running, she was sprinting. Her left hand de-gloved her right revealing the tattoos that covered each underside of her finger, and one to her palm. Shoving the removed glove into her pocket she came to the scene. There was a girl, young in age, copper hair, wide sea blue eyes... And she was coming right at Gwen.

The _**THUD**_ occurred just as quickly as the pain that filled her back. She could feel her limbs sprawled out, that and the girl's. The weight of the teenager was fairly light, but still the extra weight was unwelcoming. With very little effort Gwen shoved the girl off of her torso and pulled herself up, the child laid upon her side in a daze it would seem. That didn't last long, her eyes fluttered to life and panic set in, hitting the girl like a ton of bricks. Groping at the ground she scurried onto her hands and knees and squeaked, the brunette found out why when looking to her left. A little more than two feet away stood a dog, a giant dog, a mammoth sized dog. Feral, long hair, boxed snout, it wasn't a wolf at all. The short ears pinched back as its lips curled up to reveal the sharp fangs. This was an unwelcoming sight.

"Well, congratulations Balthalzar. It looks like you'll be the new grounds keeper." Jackal mused in the background.

The girl's whimper brought Gwen out of her shock and her face fell into a disbelieving scowl. She broke a mirror when she was nine, seven years had passed, how could she still be having this bad luck? Honestly, could someone tell her that at least?

"Move." Gwen hissed quietly to the teenager, but it would seem her voice went in one ear and out the other. Great, just great. Slowly moving her naked hand up closer to her face she -much to her own dislike- moved it then closer to the mouth of the beast. Taking in a short shaky breath she snapped her thumb against her tattooed index finger, one that was branded with the transmutation circle for fire. It activated, a burst of flames flaring against the face of the mutt. Not even waiting to see the results Gwen twisted around, her fingers digging into the ground as she sprang into a run. Without even saying a word her hand latched around the girl's collar and dragged her to a rise as well. The duo took off, the dog having its focus upon them rather than Jackal and Shyne. Of course, neither would assist. Jackal would rather see her die and Shyne, despite being half Vampire, did not fight. Could not fight, she should say. Probably because he'd be more prone to snapping in two. Still, it didn't help when the girl she was trying to rescue, by herself, was screaming her head off in her ear.

Before she even had the chance to insult the teenager into shutting up (a specialty of hers, might she add) the ground shook, the snarling of the monster beast behind them. A giant paw shot out crashing to the left of Gwen who took this as a hint to run faster. Roughly pulling the girl she dragged the poor thing through the graveyard, navigating around tombstones hurriedly. Each stumble the girl made was a hinderance, and Gwen could practically feel the breath of the beast on the back of her neck each time she was forced to tug the girl back upon her feet. Not to mention the smell was just awful! Find a means to bring this to an end, right. Her eyes darted in their panicked state before falling near the house. Through the woods that were right behind her home, the exact ones that surrounded a majority of the property. Even through entering she could hear the mutt demolishing the weaker of the trees, making others crooked by its mere force. That encouraged her to keep running even faster.

_Plot and plan, plot and plan._ Her mind reeled, golden gaze firing from left to right as she pulled the girl around a large tree. The cliff! Bloody hell, yes! Turning sharply she ducked and made sure the girl followed in suit. Their shift in direction slowed down their time and pace, the dog caught up with a single thrust launched outwards its large paw. Everything in that moment seemed in slow motion as she pulled the girl down, her eyes flickered up seeing the sharp claws glide just where their heads had been a moment ago. The shriek brought her out of the awe of the beast, instead she returned her focus to their escape. Once fixed on the set direction Gwen changed grip on the girl, moving her into her left hand, leaving her right open for business. It was back to sprinting through the woods, and if this wasn't such a heart attack worthy experience she would of found it completely repetitive. But alas, after who knows how many yards of pure adrenaline and sweat, the sky could be seen upon the other side. The cliff, fucking _finally_.

Only now, there wasn't much restraint for the beast, and Gwen really hated having to rush. The crashing of trees could not only be heard, but with a quick peek over her shoulder it could be seen. It's head smashed through a few trunks, shoulders pushing forward against the bark. Never had she thought a tree could creak that way. One by one all the trees restraining the mutt began to give way, each one coming down in all directions. Again that fearsome huge paw launched out, and aside from the ground grumbling in protest and the small stumble they were unaffected. Still, there was only one direction to go now.

"A-Are you insane?" The girl screeched and when the elder of the two didn't stop running towards the edge she went again, "You are insane!"

That earned a hollow laugh just as she reached the edge of the cliff, hand slamming into the ground, "No, I'm fucking brilliant!" And then they went over.

And they fell.

They fell fast.

But they landed even harder.

The face of Shyne came into view over the cliff, a look of concern turned into a wide spread grin. Jackal seemed indifferent to the situation of seeing the two of them laying on the slab of the cliff. Having transmutated an extension to catch them, that is. The girl was still horror struck, but Gwen returned the grin wickedly, nearly cackling as she laid there upon her back with her legs up in the air, inelegantly tucked to her chest.

"See, this is why I stay pathetic." Shyne mused, "You get to have all the fun while I get to do all the watching. It's perfect."

Pushing herself to sit up she tilted her head back to watch her fellows. There was no response, she just kept grinning. So maybe her luck was coming back, slowly, and with a lot of consquences. But hell, it was still coming back. Especially considering they were still alive, and the freakishly large dog now laid dead at the bottom.

Now all she had to do is get back on top of the cliff. Oh, and the girl too. Couldn't forget her.

**Some time later...**

"I think she's traumatized." Jackal concluded, his transparent hand waving back and forth in front of the girl's face.

"Yeah, cause' she saw yer face!" Shyne spoke, moving his arms in an animated fashion. That got him a disapproving gaze.

Gwen was sitting upon the couch, head lolled backwards without a care. Not only was she muddy from before, now she was scratched up and sore. Really she could not care about the child being out of it, at least it gave her some quiet time. Especially after all that screaming. "She's fine, she'll live."

"You almost killed me!" The girl yelled out of the blue, her gaze wide as she stood from the chair she had been placed in. An accusing finger pointed specifically at Gwen. So much for the quiet.

"But I didn't."

"But you could have!"

"But I didn't."

"You could have!"

"...But I didn't?" Gwen blinked confused.

The girl's arm dropped and she fell back into the chair, face buried into her hands. The sniffling indicated the treeos worst fear ever.

"Oh bloody hell, you made her cry!" Shyne spewed first, his finger now accusing her as well.

Gwen's face fell, nearly to the floor, she launched from the couched to a stand, "Pointing isn't nice!" A silent argument occurring within their gaze. Having no energy to deal with a crying teenager -on crack, possibly- and a hybrid that would leave (which would mean she'd be stuck with both a crying teenager -possibly on crack- and Jackal, who was bad enough on his own), her all alone, she straightened. Her steps walked up beside the girl and awkwardly she patted her on the head very lightly. As if the girl would either break beneath her now gloved hand, or bite it off. "There, there." Were the only words that followed. From the corner of her eyes she could see Shyne throw his arms into the air in disbelief.

Apparently, it sparked something though. The sniffling stopped, the girl's arms dropped into her lap, and she looked up with a faint smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just... I never encountered _that_. I mean, I have horrible luck but that was just..."

"Ridiculous?" Gwen inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes." The teenager replied breathlessly. Wiping her tear stained hand against her skirt she held it out, a larger smile forming upon her lips, "My name is Simone Brackett."

The brunette eyed the hand over before -not without sighing- taking it, "Gwen Paulius." Their grip was severed, and the elder of them shoved a thumb into the hybrid's direction. "Shyne Balthalzar, dumbass extraordinaire! And the most useless companion ever." She introduced, watching as he was about to bow at his name but caught himself. A playful glare being thrown into her direction.

"Pardon," He took his gaze off of Gwen and placed it upon Simone. "but she's a bit of a, what's the word that describes a lunatic experimenter that holds herself up in a graveyard to preform either eccentric or tedious things?" He questioned himself, purposely mumbling loud enough for them all to hear.

"A bitch?" Jackal asked, face straight.

"Not my fault you're the weakest vampire in the world." Gwen rolled her eyes, purposely ignoring the ghost.

"H-He's a vampire?" Simone reeled the chair backwards, directly through Jackal at that. The ghost blinked a few times before turning to the girl with a scowl.

"Hybrid. He's mostly human, but his Vampire abilities are more... Dominate. In a sense. Of course, he can't fight worth shit, he just heals himself. That's all. Seriously."

"Rude." Jackal commented dryly. As if to voice his annoyance five seconds later.

"Introduce yourself, spawn." Shyne spoke, words prodding at the spirit.

Displeased, the entity obliged. "Jackal."

"Jackal?"

"It is what I said, was it not?" His crimson gaze narrowed upon her. She leaned further into the chair which seemed to satisfy him somewhat.

"Don't worry, he can't harm you now. At least, we don't think he can." Gwen murmured the last of the sentence, this raised Simone's eyebrows in surprise. "I mean, if he's capable of hurting people and just hasn't done so yet... Well, that would be something."

"Which would be surprising considering his record." Shyne chuckled.

"W-What record?"

"Oh, he was a murderer when he was alive. Killed a bunch of muggles and magic folk alike. Tore apart animals of any kind he found. Unique kinds he took parts from..." Gwen spoke, listing off the crimes upon her fingers. "Faked his death only to be killed... Hey, you never told me how!"

Jackal, who had been glaring momentarily, gave a nonchalant shrug with one lazy shoulder. As if answering her wasn't worth the effort of opening his mouth.

"Um... I have to go back to school." Simone piped up.

"School? At this hour?"

"Hogwarts." Shyne corrected Gwen, she mouthed a small 'Ah' in return. "What year you in?"

"Fifth year. I'm fifteen."

"Cool, never went. Wasn't allowed." He waved his hands around, "No magic in me worth using, apparently."

"On others, aside from immunity to many things." Jackal sneered, a tinge of envy to his voice.

Shyne ignored it, "What house?"

"Hufflepuff!" Simone stated proudly, forming a fist with her hand as she shot it up.

"Wow. She seems proud... Of what ever the hell house that is." Gwen stated slowly, her body leaning towards Jackal despite the obvious space between them. He only spared her a quick glance, not even moving his head. Lazy bastard.

"Puffs are like... Loyal puppies." Shyne corrected with a smirk.

"Are not!" Simone huffed. Gwen forced herself not to make a joke on the fact her expression corresponded with her house name. "Do you live here?" She asked, eying the tree-o over carefully.

"I do."

"I don't."

"Kind of."

Simone just looked at Gwen, then Shyne, then Jackal, all in the order of who answered. "What's that mean?"

"Don't you have to go?" The brunette sighed heavily.

"Well, I should... But-"

"Let her stay! We never get visitors."

"_I _never get visitors, you dolt!"

Shyne merely gave a dramatic sniff.

"That's... That's horrible! I mean, I get this place is pretty crappy looking. And it smells funny, and that it's really creepy, not safe feeling, not all that home-y, and the sun hasn't shown once..." She stopped at Gwen's agitated gaze. "Um, it's nice?"

"Shut up." The elder female scoffed, arms folding tightly beneath her chest.

"I'll visit you guys."

"Heh, no that's alright, girly. Run along now."

Shyne shot the grounds keeper a glare, "Come on, we need visitors sometimes. It's so-"

"_Boring_." Jackal interrupted, his fingertips running along the brim of his hat.

"Thank you."

"I hate you."

Simone giggled loudly at the two men. "I thought no one owned this place."

"Keep it that way." Gwen spoke, her eyes threatening the girl. All that was needed was the slicing of her throat hand gesture to complete it.

"I thought you said you never get visitors."

"I don't. Doesn't mean I want them."

"I do."

"No point!" The brunette groaned, "If people come just because someone new owns this place now than it's rude. No one has come to see their loved ones, to see me would just devastate those guys out there." Gwen ran a hand through her hair, "In any case we should get her back to the school." She declared dully and with little effort reached over grabbing her bag and jacket from the nearest table. It was near the evening, the trip to the castle and back would get chilly along the way, no doubt. The faster she got this done the better, a nice long shower sounded nice at the end of this day. With her finger she ushered the girl to follow along.

"Bye guys, it was nice meeting you. I hope I'll see you real soon, under better circumstances too!" Simone smiled, no longer was it filled with worry or fear. There was a real sincerity to her, one that Gwen did not like.

"Finally, some quiet." Jackal replied offhandedly then looked to the girl, speaking as if she had left despite them sharing a locked gaze. Rather than being insulted, however, the girl beamed and giggled more. "Ah, yes... Another one that lacks in noticing when they are being insulted. Good evening, Miss Brackett, Mistress." He nodded towards the two ladies before looking upon the hybrid, "Simpleton." And then he was gone fading through the wall.

The vampire glared off at the wall for a moment before his grin formed, eyes directing themselves at the young girl. "Can I come?" The grounds keeper merely glared. "Fine. Fair thee well, young Simone. Shall see you soon, I hope."

"Don't push it."

"Be nice, Paul." Shyne taunted are her rude remark, making the keeper stiffen and throw a haughty glare his way.

"Night!" Simone chimed in, completely oblivious to the death match stare down. Her skipping led her to Gwen, her hand taking the elder woman's, and they left. Much to Gwen's dislike at the loud laughter from the hybrid bastard.

There was a distinct prodding at her shoulder she couldn't make out. Her eyes looked around, nothing, just blackness. Groaning softly she shifted, but alas that didn't stop the prods. Opening a single eye Gwen stared at the young girl who was in mid-poke before smiling at the sleepy elder. "We're here." Were the only words that fell. Her mind reeled over the events in the past hour and a half, the dog, now this ride to the school. The carriage had landed and stopped, door opening for the duo. Pulling herself up she slung the bag over one shoulder and hopped out behind Simone, following idly as the girl led them into the front doors of the school.

A big school.

A freaking castle!

And that's the story of when Gwen's jaw detached itself from the rest of her face and came crashing to the cold stone ground.

"Shit."

"Huh? Where?" Simone asked, curiosity in her voice. Gwen shot her an incredulous look as to why that would be the one thing she responds with. Rather than making any sort of commotion about it she saved her breath, simply motioning for the girl to keep leading. Lucky for her she did.

Saying the bridge was huge would be an understatement. Gwen usually felt small, but this was just ridiculous. From what her lazy observations could tell it was stone, which wasn't that big of a surprise considering this was a castle. A lazy frown set itself upon her lips, displeased by all the walking she was doing for a mere girl. It reminded her far too much of the times when she walked for that _boy_. Of course, she too was just a girl then. Her lips twitched and sunk down further, the frown into a not-in-the-least-bit-lazy scowl. There was a spark of fire that erupted from within, really, she should of given herself memory problems long ago. Then again, don't wizards and witches or what ever the hell they are, know how to erase memories? Surely...

No, no. Then poof would go all her talents.

But surely...

No.

Not just the boy?

No. He came with a lot of her knowledge.

...Bastard.

"Here we are!" The annoyingly cheerful voice cried out, her hands pushing open the doors. Ones that seemed far too large as well as heavy for her to be able to do such.

"Delightful." Gwen replied, her voice flat. Her walking had stopped and she stood idly with her hands shoved into her coat pockets. She was swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet, eager to leave. "Can I go now?"

"No." Simone giggled as her arm linked with Gwen's. How she was able to force the elder of the two into walking was beyond her. All that she knew was that they were within the main entrance of the castle and heading to the stairs. "You're my alibi."

"Mm. _Delightful_." She repeated with obvious sarcasm.

"Miss Brackett!" A sharp voice snapped. Both the girl's head turned into the direction, low and behold upon the top of the steps stood an elderly woman. Dressed in black robes and a matching witch hat (one Gwen felt was definitely unnecessary), wrinkles covering her face and neck. Yet, despite the definite authority tone in her voice the woman's eyes were quite light. Stern, but light. Creepy magic people.

"O-oh... Professor McGonagall!" The young girl stammered, her eyes growing frantic. Obviously this was one superior she was not looking forward to seeing.

"What are you doing here so late?" Her gaze shifted from the student to the one the girl clung to, "And who is this? Is she even... Is she a muggle?"

"I..." The girl gulped loudly, "I went out to get supplies, but I kind of got lost going in the wrong direction. So I tried to find my way back and got even more lost. Then there was this man, and he had this huge dog-"

_No idea how huge, lady._ Gwen scowled.

"-and it chased me all the way to the graveyard, Memory Lane. A-And then this-" Simone detached herself from the brunette and motioned to the woman. "-_she _saved me. Recklessly-"

"You're _welcome_." Gwen forced a smile at the teenager who cringed, not wanting two adults against her.

"She then escorted me back here." At the blunt end both eyebrows rose upon the professor's face. Taking it as a bad sign the youngster broke out into hysterics. "Please don't expel me! It was an accident. I didn't mean to wander out of bounds or anything. Or get chased by that dog, or live when I was pulled off the cliff-"

"_What?_" Gwen turned shaking the girl by her shoulders. "Shut up!"

"What cliff?"

Suddenly both fingers were pointed in the brunette's direction. "She pulled me off a cliff so the dog didn't get us. I thought I was going to die!"

Gwen groaned at the sight of the professor's face. "It's not what you think. I had a landing slab ready before we jumped."

"I didn't know that!"

"You were too busy screaming your head off in _my _ear!" They argued.

"Ladies." McGonagall interrupted before hair could be torn out of their roots. "I think we should see the Headmaster, don't you?"

"Who?"

That earned an elbow to her ribs, "Yes, ma'am." Simone answered curtly, her head hung low.

"Well then, follow me." The eldest of them ordered as she turned on her heels and began heading down the corridor. It was bathed within silence, which was fine for Gwen. When she caught the teenager's glance her nostrils flared, teeth sinking into her cheek. Saying she was angry wouldn't be right, it was more that the heat of the argument was now over and she was cooling down.

Letting out a breath of the last of her hot air she took to examining the halls. Long, fairly warm, dark. Rather noisy. She blinked, were those whispers? Her attention shifted as she looked around and only managed to see through the poorly little corridor portraits. And they were moving. Her golden hues widened with surprise and she looked to Simone for confirmation she was not crazy. The teenager grinned at Gwen's amazement but said nothing otherwise. So this was magic? This was what she taught not to believe in but held out hope for. She too, then, grinned and waved at the passing portraits before they turned down to another corridor. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

The professor continued leading them, her steps coming to a halt at a gargoyle. Gwen was very prepared to raise an eyebrow at the sudden stop, but after the whispering of a single word and the wall itself seeming to shift she reserved herself from doing so. The statue began to rise, spiral stairs following after it. Simone ushered her in after the professor. Now this was awkward, cramped space with two people who most likely didn't like her.

"Psst." Simone whispered, her upper half swaying into the brunette's direction. "What time is it?"

Gwen blinked a moment before reaching down her shirt and pulling out her pocket watch. "Fifteen past eleven." She spoke quietly before looking at the quizzical expression. "What?"

"Why was that down-"

"I didn't want it to get muddy." Gwen dismissed before the girl could finish her sentence, a gesture down at her still -dry- muddy self. "Is your curfew that big of a deal?" She asked dryly while shoving the watch into her pocket this time.

"No, it's mostly you." That earned her a dirty look. Simone could only shrug.

"Ladies." McGonagall captured their attention easily, stepping off the stairs and into the large office of the Headmaster. "Dumbledore, I found these two wandering in past curfew. They have quite the story."

Upon entering the first thing the brunette did was tilt back her head and stare up at the wizard. He was dressed in a long sleeping gown, a corny pointy wizard hat on top of his head. Being of average height, just barely, she knew her neck would be getting sore soon just by looking at him. She withheld a groan at that one. Instead she did something more useful and went ahead to remember this one, for some reason with Simone she had a feeling she would need to. As much as she didn't want to. The man, aside from being absurdly tall, had long white hair and a match beard. He was fair in color, and his eyes were quite light. Bright even. She could of sworn they twinkled with curiosity, though considering she just witnessed moving portraits that would be no surprise.

"Ah, hello." He spoke, his voice raspy from being awoken during the night. "Perhaps introductions are in order, Miss?"

Gwen waited a moment before noticing the eyes were on her. Right, Simone practically lives here. "Gwen Paulius." She offered and took a step forward with her hand extended. "I'm the grounds keeper over at Memory Lane graveyard."

His eyebrows shot up at that, a small smile gracing his barely seen lips. He took her hand though, giving it a gentle shake as if not to break her. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts, as you most likely already know." Dumbledore inclined his head some, the smile growing further. Nearly playful. "Would you like to tell your tale as to why you're here past curfew?"

"Well-" Simone started but was interrupted at the accusing finger now pointed at her.

"Her fault."

"What?"

"You see, she got lost, apparently." That earned her a glare. "She saw some guy, and well, ended up being chased by some dog to which they both ended up in my graveyard scaring all my residential dead people." Gwen waved off in a manner close to being nonchalant. "So I had to rescue her since she couldn't do anything but scream at the mammoth sized dog. Which as you can see, I did successfully. Aside from my ears bleeding some we managed to survive and I escorted her back here. That's about it." She ended with, a large smile plastering itself upon her face.

"Is this true, Miss Brackett?" Albus looked to the girl who nodded sheepishly. "I see. Well, thanks are in order then for your assistance. Might I inquire, though, how it was you managed to evade this creature?"

Subconsciously Gwen shoved her hands into her pockets, her expression going blank. "Alchemy."

"You're an alchemist?" He questioned in which she nodded in return. "Are you a philosopher, inventor, potions maker, or perhaps something else...?"

Her lips started to descend into a frown, "Experimenter, of sorts. May I ask why you're questioning it?"

He smiled as if all the seriousness was nonsense, as if it meant nothing. "I don't meet many alchemists. There are potion makers, plenty of shops around here. Then there are philosophers, once more plenty of them. But rarely have I met an alchemist that works in _other _fields. I'm curious, you could say."

Gwen's frown froze and instead formed into a smirk. "I see. I didn't know alchemists were a dying breed."

"If you wish to call it that..." He chuckled pleased for a moment before looking to the copper head girl. "Well, I suppose it would be best to give you another map Miss Brackett. Please try to not get lost next time."

"N-No detention or points removed?" Simone asked as if awestruck.

"No, I do believe it was a mere accident that you ended up in your situation." He paused though, gaze setting firmly upon the young student. "However, if you try to Apparate again while underage, I will need to issue you a more severe punishment. Do you understand me?" The girl did, her head nodding in confirmation and whispering a small thanks. "Good. Professor McGonagall, would you please escort Miss Brackett back to her dorm?"

"Of course, sir."

"Ah, um, wait please!" Simone asked her professor before running over to Gwen. "Thank-you so much. I really didn't mean to impose but-"

"Go to bed." She interjected before the girl could ramble. A hand already rubbing at the forming headache.

"Oh, right, yes. I'll see you soon, hopefully." Simone smiled brightly before being escorted away.

The hand slipped down to rubbing the bridge of her nose. Her attention turned back to the headmaster, a tired look etched into her smooth features. "Am I to assume that means we are not finished?"

He shook his head, "I just need a few more moments of your time, if you do not mind that is?"

"Go on, sir."

The headmaster smiled slightly, "Thank-you. You mentioned Simone saw a man?"

"Oh. That." Gwen rubbed the back of her neck, an uneasy look crossing her features. "She mentioned that to the previous professor."

"You did not see this man?" She shook her head. "I see, well..." He brightened, if only a fraction, "That's all I wanted to know. Do keep your eye out, Miss Paulius-"

She winced slightly, "Please, just Gwen."

There was a pause before he continued, "Yes, Gwen, do be careful."

"I can just leave then, no sweat, warning, threats?" She asked skeptically.

His head tilted barely, lips spreading into a warm and amused smile, "Were you expecting that from us Wizard-folk? I can assure you, Gwen, no harm will come to you." Her expression mimicked her tone of voice, unmoved by his words. Rising from the chair he walked around from the desk and led her to the staircase, "I shall walk you to the entrance." It wasn't an offer, but still the politeness oozed out of him, nearly to the point it was sickening. Nonetheless she followed his pace down the stairs and through the hall, both silent for their own reasons. Her eyes wandered the walls and floor of the hallway as they walked, wondering just what it would be like to actually live in such a place. The first thing that came to mind was a prison, but warmth soon followed after. And despite her dislike for crowds the fact of the matter was this place probably was a lot nicer than anything on the outside. "For the record," His voice came out quietly causing her head to lift in a slight tilt into his direction, "it is good to see someone taking care of them." And they both knew whom he was referring to. The deceased, the souls still left wandering about.

"People are careless. Easily forgetting the value of life, even after it's gone. Just pisses me off, someone had to do something." Gwen muttered, fingers flexing at her side as she walked.

"While I am glad to see you helping you should keep in mind that there are worthwhile people out there, still." He toned indicated a smile.

She, on the other hand, scoffed. "I'm not getting my hopes up. The living are out for themselves through and through. The dead have nothing left, so I say give me a ghost to talk to any day."

The faint shuffling of his slippers came to a halt, the shadow of the tall Headmaster shifting across her frame as he turned. The door on the left of him, on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Her gaze stayed low, and wordlessly she turned and moved down the stairs as swiftly as a walk could be. It was the first time she was at Hogwarts, a place she heard rumors about. Actually supposed to be the most magical place in the world, and here she was fleeing it. Unable to shake the feel of his solid and unreadable gaze upon her back. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, and once out the door her pace increased, old shoes hitting the stone harder and faster each step. Until she was running across the bridge, shoulders trembling as she fled as if her life depended on it. Which may have just been true, considering she grew up believing that there wasn't a single person out there that was precious. But honestly, how could she think that when she just met a man that oozed sincerity. Gwen didn't know, and quite frankly she did not want to even care about it. She just wanted to find her way back home, if one could call it such, and hide away once more. She did not want to care, did not want to know what it was like, and most of all she did not want to experience meeting people that could be worth it. Not after all these years. She could not change who she was, she did not know how, and up till now never questioned learning how.


End file.
